


irresistible

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Dom/sub, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mild Kink, Name-Calling, Porn With Plot, Soul Punk Era Patrick Stump, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8514706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Patrick isn't making enough money to get by, so he starts working at a strip club.





	

Patrick doesn't make enough money since the hiatus started. No one seems to like the music he's putting out and he simply is in an economical problem. He looks at himself; sees he's skinny, he's blonde, he's pretty (body) hairless. He's a twink, pretty much.

The idea comes to his mind in a lazy afternoon after recording a new song. He decides that to make money he should go into the sex industry in one of its lightest forms; and by that he means working at a strip club.

He thinks about stage names and decides he'll go by Angel, and if someone asks for his real name he'll say Martin, which is his birth middle name anyway. He has it planned out as he looks for strip clubs in downtown Chicago. He finds one that seems pretty decent, and at the light of day he goes to it to try and get a job.

The interview happens fast, almost too fast, and before he knows it he's working there with a good payment. His first night is that Friday, and he hopes nobody in the place will recognize him as the sort of ex singer of the popular emo band, Fall Out Boy.

He puts simple clothes; jeans, a shirt and sneakers. He doesn't worry about being too sexy or remarkable; he'll get his reputation soon enough. Angel, he remembers. He hopes he can get some customers to give a lap dance to or something. He wants the cash, and if that means doing that, he'll do it.

He goes to strip club at eight. It doesn't have many people, and it's humid with the smell of alcohol and how old the building is. It's not raining, so Patrick guesses people will come.

He goes backstage and he's received by a girl, she having short blue hair and multiple tattoos. "Hey!" she greets him. "We don't see many male strippers around here. What's your name— stage name, rather?"

"Angel," Patrick says, and the girl grins. "You?"

"I'm Halsey, pleasure."

"Hey, Halsey! We got a newbie?" a girl with orangeish hair walks next to them both, smiling brightly. "Oh, a boy! We don't see male strippers often."

"I'm Angel," Patrick introduces himself.

"You can call me Cherry," the girl says as she threads her fingers around her hair. "We've got more strippers here, but it's early so they aren't here yet. You're new in the business, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I wasn't making enough money, so I decided it would be good." Cherry then moves to his side and grabs his ass. He squeaks. "Hey!"

"You've got no ass," Cherry says, chuckling. "But your face's nice. The customers will like you."

"Yeah."

They stay there, talking and when more strippers come they introduce themselves. There's one tall Latino boy who Patrick swears he's seen somewhere, and he introduces himself as 'Alejandro'. Patrick feels like he's familiar. Like he's known him before. Alejandro looks at him long and hard, and Patrick feels like he shares this sensation.

"You can also call me Gabe," Alejandro adds, looking at Patrick. "Yes, I'm that Gabe, Patrick," he says, putting emphasis on the other boy's name.

"His real name's Patrick?" Halsey pipes in.

"Is he the Patrick?" Cherry asks.

"Yeah. If you mean the FOB one, then yes," Patrick says, looking down. "Nobody likes my solo work, so I had to turn to something different, y'know?"

"Yeah, and I was in Cobra Starship until it got boring. I'm still in the scene but I'm taking a break."

"So you're Patrick Stump—" Cherry says, and Patrick nods. "— and you're Gabe Saporta?" When Gabe slash Alejandro nods, Cherry's eyes lit up. "Cool! I love your bands. I didn't expect you to turn to stripping."

"Well, I can see it from Gabe," Patrick says, chuckling. "He's that kind of dude. Meanwhile, I was a chubby dude in an emo band not long ago."

"You look like a total twink now, though," Halsey says, and Patrick flushes.

"Halsey's right," Gabe says as he lits up a cigarette and starts smoking. "You'll make lots of money here if you're good. Watch me do it; I'm pretty liked amongst the customers." He takes a hit and lets the smoke go out of his nostrils and mouth.

"Yeah," Cherry pipes in. "You gotta also give private dances and stuff. Try to get it on with the rich dudes. You'll know 'em when you see 'em."

Patrick nods and then he hears people talking. He guesses the customers are already there, and he gets up. "You're after me," Gabe tells him, and Patrick nods, acknowledging his comment.

Cherry goes first. She goes around the pole, winking as she takes off the jacket she has on. Before Patrick knows it she only has her undergarments on, and people are cheering and throwing bucks at her feet. She dances around the pole, and Patrick's too concentrated on her dancing and to see her moves to pay attention to the music blasting through the speakers.

People keep cheering and she takes off her bra, and they start clapping. She moves around the stage, showing off her tits, She's grinning as more money is at her feet. She dances and she shakes her ass, and Patrick thinks he'd do that if his ass was somewhere near existent.

After Cherry, it's Gabe's turn. Patrick feels blood rush to his head as he tries to concentrate on what the Latino boy is doing. He takes off his shirt; most people seem interested— included a few women he hadn't seen before— but the rest (most likely straight guys) seem uninterested.

Gabe shakes his hips, swivels them almost obscenely. He thrusts his hips into the pole and people cheer as money's thrown at his feet. Gabe moans like a cheap whore as he takes off his pants. The outline of his dick is visible from the tight boxers, and Patrick feels like he's violating the other singer's privacy when he takes off his boxers.

He knows he has to do that, too, to be liked. He has to go in the nude. He doesn't feel confident enough to go do that, but he knows he has to. Gabe threads his fingers through his hair and swivels his hips, and Patrick goes to grab a glass of water.

Before he knows it, Gabe's show is done and over with as he goes to a man's seat and talks with him quietly. Patrick sees Gabe going to the bedroom with him, and he expects he'll give him a private show for a rather expensive amount of money.

"Today we got a new stripper," he hears the owner— his boss— say. "His name's Angel." People clap as he goes on stage and he feels fear creep at him. He only knows how to sing on a stage, not dance or be as obscene as Gabe. He takes a few shaky breaths as he feels the whole bar's attention on him.

He takes off his shirt as he dances normally, very whitely in his opinion. Then, when he goes to the pole, he bites his lip and looks at the crowd. And, establishing eye contact with them, he does a hip swivel movement. People cheer and money falls on his feet, though it's not much.

He shakes his ass, or lack thereof, and bites his lower lip as he thrusts his hips into the pole just like Gabe did. He feels blood rush to his dick and he starts thinking of Pete. They never officially dated, but he feels as if they both were pining for each other in some moment.

He thinks of doing this for Pete as he takes off his tight jeans and keeps moving his hips. People clap and cheer, and he feels dizzy by when he takes off his boxer briefs. He lets the imagery take control of him. Pete's lips on his neck as he thrusts into him, how he's corresponding the thrusts. He moves his hips, he feels bucks fall next to his feet.

He threads his fingers through his hair and bites his lip, opening his mouth a bit, and he moans. He does it without thinking twice, and he makes his best to not let a moan of Pete's name go out of his mouth. He messes up his own hair and he takes the money in the floor of the stage, not caring to count. Two songs passed, and he knows his act is over.

He finds a man with black hair and ice blue eyes, and he locks gazes with Patrick. He seems rich; he has jewelry all over him and his clothes look expensive as fuck. "Hey, honey," he says. "Want me to give you a lap dance?"

"Yeah," the man says. "What's your real name?"

'Patrick' almost comes off his mouth, but he stops himself at time. "Martin. What's your name, cutie?" he purrs as he takes the man's hand in his and leads him to one of the bedrooms in the strip club.

"I'm Alex," the man tells him as he closes the door behind him. He sits on one of the chairs in the bedroom and Patrick puts his boxers back on as he teases him, purring in his ear as he grinds into him. "I'll pay you a lot of money if you sleep with me."

Patrick shakes his head. "This is a strip club, not a brothel, Alex." He clicks his tongue and looks at the rich man. "With a hundred bucks for a lap dance we'll both be fine."

"Alright," Alex says.

It's a long night, but Patrick ends with a hundred bucks in his hands plus all the tips he got when he was doing the strip tease in public. In total it's around three hundred bucks, and Patrick feels proud of himself even when Gabe comes back offstage with the double of money in his hands.

Patrick enjoys the public strip teases, but in the private world he can't help but feel used as he gives men lap dances and see girls gawk at him when they enter the club. No one seems to recognize him as the chubby dude who once led Fall Out Boy.

While he isn't at the strip club he plays in concerts and makes new music. In October 18th, he releases his solo album, Soul Punk. As he expected, it doesn't have much reaction from the general public, but professionals seem to love it.

It's the day before Halloween that Patrick decides to be a little ironic. He puts red high heels on and a red suit, and he puts devil horns on his head. He looks ridiculous, and because of his stage name it is even more ridiculous and ironic.

He goes to the strip club with his hair fluffed up and his horns. He licks his lips when he sees the men waiting for the strippers to start doing their thing, and he goes to talk with Mr. Smith about going first.

"Mr. Smith?" he says after the man opens the door. "Can I go first tonight?"

"Why do you wish for that, Mr. Stumph?" Mr. Smith says, with his low, guttural voice. Patrick feels shivers go down his spine.

"I dressed up for Halloween. And I feel like it, Mr. Smith," Patrick answers, looking down. Mr. Smith nods, gives him a thumbs up and Patrick's eyes lit up. "Thank you!" he chirps as he goes offstage.

"Tonight's there's a change of schedule," Mr. Smith announces, and people clap enthusiastically. "Our star stripper, Angel, goes first!"

Patrick licks his lips as he gets on stage. He's used to the stares, but this time it's different. Everyone looks at him, some laugh, and he bites his lip in an attempt to seem sexy.

The music starts playing and Patrick chokes back a laugh when he realizes it's Cobra's "Hot Mess". He shakes his head and he takes off his heels, throwing them at the crowd, which waits for it. Someone takes them, and their eyes lock. Patrick is about to chuckle before he recognizes those whiskey eyes and that black hair.

His heart skips a beat, but he doesn't say anything and just keeps the show going. He takes off his pants teasingly slow, putting his ass in front of the crowd before he takes the pants off.

He undoes his tie and throws it to the floor, and he takes off his suit almost too fast. He can't stop thinking about him. He's here, he thinks. Why? What's he doing here? He wants to shout, ask why out loud, but he knows he can't.

The show has to go on, he tells himself as he grinds his hips into the pole. The show has to go on, he tells himself when he takes off his shirt and moans incoherently. He looks for the boy in the crowd, and their eyes lock. Whiskey eyes against blue ones. He nods, and the other boy nods, too.

This small exchange seems to go unnoticed as Patrick is on the nude. People clap and he takes the money on his feet. "Are my horns on straight?" Patrick asks a little loud, and people laugh. "Well, thank you for watching me, peeps!" he chuckles as he puts his briefs back on and leaves the stage.

He goes into the crowd until he sees him, and he grabs his arm. "Pete," he hisses, and he looks back. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard rumors of you working here, Patrick— or should I say, Angel?" his voice drips venom and sarcasm, and Patrick takes his hand off him. "Why are you doing this? This isn't the easiest way of gaining money."

Patrick grabs Pete's arm and pulls him to the side. "Now that I've finally lost weight, better put my twink-y looks to use, shouldn't I?"

"This... this isn't the way, Patrick. The sex industry is fucked up."

"I don't care, Pete," Patrick says. He's still half-naked and seeing Pete look at him shirtless with such adoration makes him groan. "You still watched me, though. Did you enjoy it, Pete? Did you?" he purrs, treating his best friend like any other customer. He knows he shouldn't, but he hadn't had much more human interaction but his customers in a while.

"Yeah, I did enjoy it, but, Trick—" he's shut up when Patrick puts a leg so it's rubbing his crotch and how he starts kissing him wetly. Before he knows it, Pete is deepening the kiss with his hand on Patrick's neck. "Wow," Pete gasps when he pulls away.

"Yeah," Patrick grins. "Wanna fuck me?"

"W-What?" Pete sputters, and Patrick raises an eyebrow. "I— yes. Yes, yes." He's always liked Patrick that way, even though his only way of demonstrating it had always been on stage and sleepy 'I love you's.

Patrick takes off Pete's clothes one at one, and when there's only his briefs left he's glad to see he's already half-hard. He handles Pete's erection lazily, craning his neck as he keeps moving his hand around Pete's cock. "Want me to suck you off, Pete? Make you come on my face?" he purrs, and Pete's cock only gets harder at the idea.

Pete groans as he puts his boxers even more down, not caring about the stares people are giving them. He doesn't care when a few girls crowd around them to watch. He doesn't care, he's wanted this for so long and he just wants to fuck Patrick's pretty face.

He threads his fingers on Patrick's hair and guides his head to his throbbing cock, and Patrick swirls his tongue around his dick expertly. He takes him all in, gagging a bit, and Pete fucking loves it. He's so hot like this, his nose next to Pete's pubic hair, how he gags and moans, making vibrations around Pete's cock.

"You're so pretty, so good for me—" Pete groans when Patrick gets off his cock to breathe. Patrick's forehead is sticky with sweat and his hair sticks to it, and he looks stunning as he goes back to Pete's cock. "Fuck— fuck, fuck!" he moans when Patrick looks up to him, his tongue swirling around the head of his cock, his innocent blue eyes locking with Pete's whiskey gaze.

"God— Patrick!" he moans when he takes him all in again, his nose itching against his pubic hair. He can't hold it, and he's going to come in any second now.

Patrick seems to know, because he gets off him and grins. "Cum on my face," he tells him, and Pete obliges. Come goes out of his dick and directly into Patrick's mouth, cheeks and forehead. Patrick swallows what fell in his mouth, and he chuckles. "Don't I look pretty with your cum on my face, sir?"

The use of 'sir' makes Pete's cock harden curiously again. "You're like a horny teenager," Patrick tells him, a bit sarcastic. "You're in your thirties, man. You should be better than that."

Patrick's teasing makes Pete feel a bit embarrassed, but he feels like Patrick is hinting at some dom slash sub play, and Pete would be lying if he doesn't say he's down for that. "Don't tease me, slut," Pete says, his voice low, a growl.

Patrick looks up at him, and he chuckles. "I won't," he says, trying to seem serious. "I won't, sir," he repeats, and Pete gets embarrassed at how the use of 'sir' makes him so fucking hard.

Pete puts his boxers back on, looking at the girls crowding around him like crows looking for prey. "Shoo," he tells them. "The show's over." The girls complain— he guesses some of them recognize them as Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump, the guys everyone ships together— but they leave.

Pete takes Patrick's hand on his and Patrick gets up. "I don't want to be... too rough about this dom sub thing. I don't want you to be in pain or anything."

"Yeah, I guess," Patrick mutters. "I just like calling you sir, y'know? And being called degrading names is really hot for me. So we can both enjoy it— considering how hard you got at that, too."

Pete laughs, shoves him aside as he puts his clothes back on. "I missed you," he tells Patrick, and Patrick smiles.

"I missed you too," Patrick confides, and he kisses Pete softly, almost too innocently after what happened before. Patrick goes to get a towel and he cleans his face. He goes to get his clothes and he puts it on quickly. He leaves the towel in the ground as he leaves the strip club with Pete at his side. "The cleaning guy will have to deal with your cum," he says, and Pete shakes his head and laughs.

"Okay, we'll discuss this whole kink thing when we're home, alright?" Pete says, hoping Patrick will agree. It's the first time they've done anything remotely sexual or romantic (if you don't count the stage gay), but it feels as if they've done it so many times it feels natural.

"Alright," Patrick nods. "Your house or mine?"

"Mine," Pete says. "If you want, that is."

"That's why I asked, goofball. I wouldn't ask if I wanted a specific one."

Pete blushes nervously and he goes to his car, parked in the strip club's parking lot. Patrick sits next to him, their fingers intertwined before Pete sits on the drivers seat. "Let's go."

"Did you listen to my album?" Patrick asks while Pete starts driving.

"Yeah! I loved it. Bad Side Of 25 is, as the kids say, a jam." Patrick laughs at that, throwing his head back. "But it's really good. I'm sad most people didn't like it."

"Yeah," Patrick shrugs. "It wasn't that good, really."

"It was good!" Pete argues. Patrick shakes his head and leaves it at that. "You need to believe in your work more, man."

"But if nobody likes it then it must be bad."

"People did like it. Professionals said it was amazing work. I liked it. Andy and Joe liked it."

"I guess," Patrick says as they get off from the car and go to Pete's house, which Pete parked next to. Patrick sits at one of the couches in the living room while Pete goes to get chips and soda. He comes back with a big bowl of chips and two glasses of coke.

Pete leaves the bowl at Patrick's side and he gives him his glass of coke, and Patrick drinks a bit of it gladly. "Can we cuddle?" Pete asks. He misses doing that; it's been years since Patrick and him did so.

"Yes," Patrick says and he sits on Pete's lap, kissing him gently. "I love you," Patrick tells him and he kisses his cheek chastely. He moves to get a handful of chips and he eats them all in one go.

"Gross," Pete jokes, and Patrick rolls his eyes.

"Love you too," Patrick says, grinning. "But. Kink things." Pete nods. "I don't want it to be a twenty-four seven thing, you know? I want it to be just during sex. Otherwise I don't think it is very... safe or healthy."

"Yeah, I agree. What's your safe word?"

"You can ask for color and I'll say green if I'm still into it, yellow if I need you to slow down and red for you to stop."

"That sounds good," Pete says, and Patrick nods before kissing him sweetly. "You okay with name-calling?"

"Yes," Patrick nods. "Definitely."

"Punishments?"

"No. I hate those."

"Watersports?"

"Meh," he shrugs. "I'm not gonna drink your piss, dude."

Pete laughs and that's when he finds Patrick beautiful, as beautiful as always as he kisses him once, twice. "Alright. Blindfolds?"

"Yes! Fuck me up with that sensory deprivation, daddy." He exclaims, 'daddy' dripping sarcasm. Pete laughs.

"Gags are out of the list because I'd love to hear you moan," Pete says, and Patrick nods.

"I would probably hate them. I'm okay with no seeing anything but not being able to say anything is another story, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. Also, I'm a bit of a switch so if you ever feel like being a dom..."

"I probably won't," Patrick laughs. "But we can experiment with that sometime." He kisses him again and Pete smiles against his lips. "I'm sleepy," he says.

"Yeah, it's late. Let's sleep in my bed, alright?" he smiles when Patrick nods and gets off his lap, and he goes upstairs to go to Pete's bed. He takes off his high heels and suit and soon he's curled up in the bed.

Pete takes off his clothes and he's happy he's with Patrick now. He won't have to only fantasize now. He has him, he has his sub, and he's so in love as he kisses him good night and he goes to his side of the bed.

They fall asleep quickly after, Patrick looking for Pete's warmth as he curls up next to him, burying his face on his chest.

\---

Pete wakes up to the smell of pancakes and he goes to the bathroom before he goes to the kitchen to see Patrick making some. "Good mornin'," he tells the younger boy as he kisses his forehead.

Patrick leaves the pancakes in a plate and he puts syrup on top of them. "There you go," Patrick tells Pete, and he gladly takes the plate and brings it to the dinning table. He starts eating gladly and he smiles; Patrick's an amazing cook.

He leaves two pancakes Patrick ends eating as they talk about how they slept and whether Patrick's going to the strip club that night.

"I'm gonna go," Patrick announces.

"It's dangerous! Some dude could rape you."

"I'll defend myself," Patrick shrugs, seemingly careless. "I'll be fine, Pete, don't worry."

"Can we have sex, though?" Pete says, looking down, embarrassed by the sudden question.

"Yeah! Definitely."

When they end eating Patrick and Pete go to their bedroom, and Pete smiles at the sight of Patrick half-naked, only boxer briefs on.

"You must only call me 'sir'," Pete tells him.

"Okay," Patrick nods.

"Okay what?" he almost growls.

"Okay, sir," Patrick says, and the dominance from Pete makes him shiver and sends blood straight to his dick. Pete, meanwhile, enjoys dominating the shorter, younger boy, and him calling him sir is a way of getting him hard embarrassingly fast.

"Good," Pete purrs, his nails scratching the shorter boy's back slowly. Patrick shivers under his touch and he stops moving his fingers. "On all fours, whore. I'll go get a blindfold."

"Yes, sir," Patrick says, and Pete opens the closet. He takes a blindfold and he puts it on Patrick's eyes. He panics at first when he doesn't see anything, but he relaxes when he feels Pete's fingernails across his back again.

Patrick sighs contently when he hears the nightstand opening and closing, and he hears the click of the bottle of lube opening. Pete coats his fingers in it, and he smiles. "Color?" Pete asks.

"Green," Patrick tells him, and Pete nods. He feels Pete's fingers ghost around his entrance and he whines softly. "Please—" Pete stops. Patrick thrusts his hips into nothingness. "Please, sir, please..."

"What do you want? Beg for it, whore." Pete's voice is a low growl and it brings shivers down his spine.

"Fuck me, please, sir, touch me, make me cum..." he begs, his hands grasping at the sheets. "I need it, please, sir, please—"

"Good enough," Pete purrs, and Patrick feels a bit of pride pool at his stomach. Besides his name-calling kink, he really likes being praised. He'll discuss that later with his dom.

Pete then puts his finger on Patrick's hole, not deep enough, and Patrick groans. He goes slow as he enters it deep, until it's ghosting over his prostate. He puts another finger in, and Patrick groans. "Color?" Pete asks again.

"Green," he gasps as he feels Pete scissor his fingers, opening him wide. He goes knuckle-deep and when he brushes his prostate Patrick lets out a gasp. "Fuck!" he moans, and Pete's other hand travels around his spine.

"You're so tight," Pete purrs as he keeps moving his fingers in and out, Patrick moaning loudly. "So tight, so good," he says as he kisses up to his back. "My little slut," he whispers and then he takes his fingers off his entrance.

Patrick whines softly at the loss of contact, but then he hears the lube bottle open again and he supposes Pete is putting lube on his cock. He feels himself being hard, but he can't come just yet. He tries to jack off, but he feels Pete's hand on his almost immediately.

"No, you won't please yourself, whore. You're under my command, and you're going to cum when I do. Not before."

"Alright, sir," Patrick says. Pete's domineering tone makes blood rush to his dick and he's just so for it. "I'm sorry, sir," he mutters, and he expects a spanking or anything— he knows he said he hates punishments, but he's been in BDSM relationships before and he expects things like that to happen.

"It's fine," Pete tells him, and he just squeezes his ass softly before entering Patrick's hole with his cock. Patrick feels full as Pete goes in slowly, trying to not alarm his sub. "You like it, bitch? You like being used, to not be able to cum?"

"Yes, sir, I like it," Patrick answers, and he then feels even fuller when Pete's cock goes all the way into him. "Fuck!" he groans, and he feels so goddamn full it's ridiculous. His hands grasp at the sheets when Pete starts pounding into him, his hands grabbing his hips roughly.

He keeps pounding, and it's such a delicious feeling as he keeps thrusting harder and faster until Patrick is moaning like a cheap whore and he's shaking from the need to have an orgasm. "C-Can I...?" he tries to look for the words, but they don't come out.

"What, slut? You want to come?"

"Y-yes, sir... please let me come..." he begs weakly, and he feels like he's going to explode.

"Not yet," Pete says, taking back the 'slut' that almost comes out of his lips. He keeps thrusting into him and then he's coming inside Patrick and he feels himself relax as cum oozes off Patrick's hole.

"You can come," he tells him, and Patrick jerks off before he comes, white ropes spilling from his cock.

"Holy shit..." Patrick whispers softly, suddenly feeling tired as he gets the blindfold off his eyes.

"Was that alright? I'm a terrible dom, I don't know how to do this, I'm sorr—" Patrick shuts him up with a kiss, and Pete smiles against his lips.

"It was perfect, sir," he says, and he kisses him again. "Don't worry, I'm fine. I don't think it's as heavy to do aftercare or whatever."

"I still... want to give you a bath or something. You know I don't mean calling you names."

"I know you don't, Pete," Patrick says, smiling, and he kisses him again. "Let's have a bath, then."

Pete turns the water on in the bathtub until its three quarters full. He calls Patrick, who gets in gladly, and Pete runs calloused and soapy hands through Patrick's body. "I love you," Pete tells him.

"I love you too," Patrick mutters sleepily. "I have work at night, remember? I'll go take a nap or somethin'."

"Alright. Sleep well, babe."

"Night." Patrick smiles as he goes to bed, not minding the smell of sex or the come in the sheets. He just wants to sleep.

Their life continues peacefully; Patrick works as a stripper until the hiatus ends, Pete and him engage in healthy dom sub play and it's all good, in both of their opinions.


End file.
